


Another Proposal

by Gangstertogangster



Category: Luke Cage (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adoption, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Older Woman/Younger Man, Original Character(s), Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 00:05:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19414291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gangstertogangster/pseuds/Gangstertogangster
Summary: Part of IrisofParadise and I's discussion on how Shades and Mariah come to adopt my OC, Honor.





	1. Chapter 1

They lay in the sheets, blankets rolled to the edge of the bed despite the cold. The only audible sounds were the the heavy breathing of the couple, just a few inches apart. She took a deep breath before going for it.

"Let's have a baby." Mariah said these words clearly, though practically out of nowhere, looking straight into Hernan's eyes.

He blinked. His heart began to skip. This didn't sound like his wife. He could only utter stammered beginnings of words. "Wha...what?"

Mariah scoffed. "You stutter now?" She gave him a side-eye.

He stammered on. "I thought we...you..."

"It's a future. Hernan, it's a future. I want something with you. Just you." She batted her eyelashes at him.

He stroked her arm. His touch made the hair on her arms raise, and she smiled with a slight upward curl of the lips.

He tried to speak but couldn't find the words. "How do I know this is..."

"Hernan, we're married, got money, I am a philanthropist, I am a name in the city once again. I ain't Dillard, ain't Stokes. I am me." Mariah shifted from his touch and held his hand. Hernan eyed her suspiciously. He sat up, rubbed at his forehead.

This was out of the blue. She never seemed to have an interest in raising kids. She used purell after interacting with local kids, for one thing. She and Tilda were still raw. But he kept feeling a strange anticipation. "Why? Why do you want a kid now?"

"I wasn't ready to be a mother when I had Tilda. I wasn't ready when Cornell showed up on the doorstep in a basket. I'm ready now."

"I thought..."

"What? What did you think?" Mariah raised an eyebrow, sitting up now as well. Hernan looked down at his knees. "You're my god damn husband! Why in the hell is this a question for you?!" Mariah snapped, recoiling.

"You won't let me hold stake in the club but you want this?" Hernan asked angrily. "Am I family to you? I ain't blood, am I still family? Or would half your DNA make up for that? Would I be enough then?!"

She straightened up, glaring. "You question me after we exchanged vows, really, Hernan?"

He felt his eyes starting to sting. "Besides." She continued. "I was thinking adoption." Hernan's eyes widened all the way. His jaw dropped. "So the kid won't matter. It ain't blood, your blood, so it won't matter."

"I do not have ANY desire to prove myself. I trust you. Ain't that something? I trust you with this, to be there for me."

Hernan blinked rapidly. He shut his eyes, inhaled deeply, exhaled. Scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Is this politics or real?" A long pause.

"Truthfully, both" Mariah sighed. She quickly continued on."But what's the difference, it's human and it's our future, it makes me more relatable, you should be..."

"I need to think about it. I want this to be real. I want US to be real."

"And we ARE!" Mariah cried out.

Hernan stared at his wife. He bit his lip. He got up from the bed and went to the dresser to look for some clothes.

"Hernan!" Mariah got up from the bed too. "Please." She reached out for him. He looked at her hand skeptically but took it after a brief consideration. He studied her face. Her eyes were wet. Her cheeks flushed, mouth in a pout. She looked down at her feet than back up at him. She hesitated, moved in for a hug. He sighed and reciprocated.

"If you want it I want it." Hernan whispered, his voice cracking. Mariah patted his lower back. Hernan groaned. "I just don't want this to be another attempt at getting your image tuned to Michelle Obama." Mariah raised her other hand, swatted his head. He winced, shook his head, couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Can we talk later?" She asked. "I don't want to sleep alone in my marriage bed, mi co-ra-zon." She said the last bit mocking. He rolled his eyes and nodded, though keeping his arms around her and hers around him.

 _How in the hell is this going to work?_ He couldn't help but thinking even as he drifted back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shades breaks the impending news to Comanche

Darius just stared at him. Finally he sighed and spoke, trying not to let his voice waver. “B, that bitch is a whole granny! Why is this something you’re even considering? And you KNOW she’s just doin’ it for her political agenda.” 

Hernan shut his eyes for a moment. He surveyed Darius with an icy glare. He steadied himself. Remembered. “Che, she’s my wife. We talked about this. We are a whole family. I got a cousin, Reina's kid, who's gonna give birth to a baby. Afro-Latina, too. It’s gonna work for me and Mariah.” 

Darius huffed. “That bitch ain’t...” 

“Don’t call her a bitch, that’s my wife.” 

Darius blinked incredulously. “B, my man, you know Mariah is just using this for politics. Remember she only hooked back up with her actual baby girl when some public relations bitch suggested it?” 

“Comanche. I want you to be the godfather but I need to know if you can be grown about this.” He gently touched Darius’ arm. Darius let Hernan’s hand stay. He held onto Hernan’s fingers tight. The wedding ring felt cold against Darius’ skin. 

Hernan exhaled, exasperated. Looked Darius in the eyes and tried to smile. “I’m trusting to you be adult about this, Che.” 

Darius swallowed, nodded. “I...I...” he shook his head, trying to gather himself. “That bi...Mariah...is selfish and I don’t wanna see you hurt...” 

Hernan rolled his eyes. Tried to gather his own breath. “I love you, too.” 

They were silent for a bit that felt like it last forever. Darius smiles weakly. “If y’all happy, you, I’m happy too.” 

Hernan grinned, relieved but still knew Darius still needed to come around. He hugged him tight, but pulled back when Darius tried to keep it going. 

“You know I’m married.”

Darius now was the only to roll his eyes. He patted Hernan’s chest. They both looked at each other. 

“You know a kid is more responsibility.” 

“I’m prepared. Do you trust me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then trust Mariah.” 

Darius looked at him, confused. Laughed it off. 

“Come on I’ll buy you breakfast” Hernan pleaded, a bit too cheery. 

“I pay this time, man. I got you.”

Hernan sighed, shrugged. Darius tried to study his face. 

Hernan returned the quizzical gaze. “Darius. Darius. You gotta trust me.” 

Darius only said, in a cracked voice, “Red Rooster? El Barrio?” 

“You pick.” 

Darius smiled but couldn’t help thinking, why couldn’t Hernan have picked him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter at midnight, and totally not all awake. I don't know how well this contributes to this story. 
> 
> Also Mariah is almost certainly going to be doubting herself and worrying, over their soon becoming parents. 
> 
> In Netflix marvel, there's a lot of focus on family as blood relation. Mariah is very preoccupied with blood relation as family, and she's still not sure Shades isn't going to leave her. 
> 
> Edit: So Victoria is a first cousin, not a third like I wrote. Because I didn't have an outline here at the time. I've updated that.

Hernan’s cousin Victoria was pregnant with the child they would adopt. Things had a way of working out, he found. Victoria got pregnant, didn’t want the kid, wanted he and Mariah to be her parents. He wished Mariah had told him she came to them for help in the first place, but he really did want a child with Mariah, and they couldn’t have a biological one.

Victoria was due in a few months.

Things had a way of working out. Cornell happened to be dead by Mariah’s hand. Misty happened to drop the phone at the barber shop. Carl happened to get brought back to life and made bulletproof by that shady doctor. Che happened to get out early and not be a snitch. He happened to be married to the love of his life. One of two, but still. Hernan smiled to himself and thought about how the cosmic forces were kind of fucked up but also kind of beautiful when one really stops and thinks about it.

* * *

Mariah wrung her hands together in her living room, contemplating. _This baby girl is a legacy. Not in the family and yet a legacy. Not a Stokes, which should really be a blessing but what's family if not blood?_

Family was blood in both the figurative and literal senses, at least that's how Mariah thought of it. Family First, Mama Mabel's mantra, was always applied to the blood. Even the Johnsons, who Mabel gave Tilda to, were cousins. They were all related and therefore connected. Hernan was some punk-ass gangster from the street. Not a member of a dynasty. Even if he wanted to be on the throne with her. 

Mariah still wondered if Hernan wasn't really just waiting to take over. _You never could tell with him_ , she thought frequently, even after she began looking into those nice eyes of his more often and he pulled the sunglasses out of his jacket pocket less frequently to obstruct them. She was married to him. Took his name, used it on personal forms. She didn’t want to add another name to the already hyphenated surname she used in public. But even after she took on that third surname, after they exchanged vows and after they lay in the same bed every night, she still wasn't sure if he was really in the family. Would this baby be? 

Mariah went to fix herself a drink. A straight vodka. Grabbing the familiar bottle, she poured it into a clear glass, nearly up to the top. _The baby is a blessing. A break from a longstanding family curse. Something, someone, she wanted with someone she married of her own free will. And he's only half gay,_ she mused ruefully. 

She downed the drink quickly, staggered over to the couch and sliding down onto a cushion. Hernan was still not home. Usually she was quite good at holding her drink but her feet felt heavier, her whole body tired. Less an effect of the drink and more of her current state of mind. 

_Does he love me_ she thought as she heard the words escape her lips. _Will baby girl love me._

_You can't choose your family. Family is forever, a curse. She won't count she won't count baby girl won't count._

Why did Hernan want to be her husband anyway? She shot up out of her seat and paced the room, trying not to stumble near the coffee table. _Why does Hernan want me, did he even want me. I ain't Che so what's the point._

She refilled her glass. Hernan didn't like her drinking so much, had her promise him she'd lay off. _But how do you not drink so much when your mind is so haunted every second of every day._ She sat back down, groaned. 

* * *

Hernan came in through the back door, per usual. Even after marrying and getting his own damn key, he still preferred it. It was their thing. He walked through the dining room, went towards the living room. He found his wife sitting by herself on the sofa, holding a half-full glass of vodka. He took a deep breath and approached her. 

"Baby, I'm back. Jesus how much of these you had since I left?" 

Mariah laughed, stared at him with dull eyes. Hernan frowned, shook his head. 

"You promised me."

"You pissed?" 

"No", he said curtly. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments before trying again. 'I need you to not shut me out."

Mariah rolled her eyes. She started muttering. "Stab me in the back you ain't my blood kid ain't my blood..."/p>

Hernan stood there, speechless, glaring. Walked towards the front door, turned back. Swallowed, sat next to her. He brushed some loose strands of hair from her face, turned it towards his."I want this with you. Do you want this with me?"

Mariah gazed at him, still, wordless. 

"Tell me." 

Mariah blinked, took a shaky breath. "Yeah." 

Hernan put his hands on his wife's shoulders, rubbing them. "You promised me you'd lay off." 

Mariah sucked her teeth, pouted, then nodded. Reached out to put her arms around him. Embraced him, clung to his shirt. "This is all new to me Hernan." 

Hernan nodded, sighed, held his wife. "We can do this. I trust you. You trust me?" Mariah nodded into his chest. He looked down at her, kissed the top of her head. She was usually so good at holding liquor. Why was tonight so different? Things had a way of working out. They'd probably work out still. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tilda and Comanche have a little brunch date to commiserate.

Darius sat at the table of the restaurant, leg shaking. It was a nervous habit he sometimes fell back into. 

Tilda eyed him, suspicious. "Why did you invite me over here, Darius?" 

"I just wanted to ask you about this shit with the new baby." 

Tilda rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse, standing up. Darius groaned. 

"Please just stay?"

Tilda looked into his eyes, nodded, sat back down. She called the waiter over for another bloody Mary before pounding down her first full glass. 

Darius nodded in acknowledgement. "I wanted to ask..." 

"You wanted to ask me how it feels?"

"How what feels?"

Tilda gave him a wary little smile. "To see someone get something you never got to experience yourself." 

Darius took an apprehensive sip of his water. He sighed, examined his hands, stared down at his knuckles. Turned his attention back to his salad, toying at the leaves with his fork. "You know Shades is my man. Has been for a long-ass time." 

"I wish I could say my mother has been there for me as long, or at all." Tilda laughed bitterly. "Alex give you the speech about how it's actually going to be a blessing?" 

Darius chuckled. "Yeah, he did." 

Tilda smiled, shaking her head in amusement. She went back to her pancakes. 

"I thought you were all organic, you know, all health-nut" Darius observed. 

"I'll eat what I damn well please." 

"Reminds me of something your mama would probably say to shut me up." 

Tilda glared at him, a clear warning he really did need to shut up. "We aren't friends, Darius. Don't act like we are." 

Darius cracked up at that. 

Tilda pressed on. "You're only here with me at this place because you can't tell Shades anything about how you really feel." 

"He's sick in the head for your mama." 

Tilda groaned loudly, just as the next bloody Mary arrived. She took a long sip. "For you too." 

"If he wants this he wants this." Darius mused. Then he buried his face in his hands, suddenly overcome with tiredness. 

Tilda watched him with a mixture of pity and boredom. She pursed her lips together. "You want me to make you a love potion? That what this is about?" 

Darius shook his head. "Nah." He paused. "I'm happy for him. I really am." His voice felt hoarse as he said those words. "You happy for your mama?" 

Tilda looked at him with such contempt that Darius almost jumped out of his seat. "You're just as happy about this as I am" she snapped. "Don't pretend you're any higher or mightier." 

"What I DO need is a potion to make me high. Or some ganja. Your rasta boyfriend got any?" He burst into laughter. 

"I swear on..." 

"On your mama?" 

"Darius I'm one fucking second from ghosting." 

"Don't sweat it. We're both in the same feelings." 

"You need a therapist, not your friend's..." 

"Stepdaughter?" 

Tilda threw the remnants of her bloody Mary in Darius' face, grabbed her purse, stormed out of the establishment. Darius rolled his eyes up to the dimly lit ceiling before using a cloth napkin to wipe the liquor off his face.


	5. Chapter 5

"NO!" Hernan knew the answer, and the tone it would be in, the pitch it would be in, before she even opened her mouth. Indeed, before he sat her down in their living room. He still stared at her in shock. Mariah shot up from her seat on the couch, paced the room furiously. She turned sharply to face him again, hands shaking. "ABSOLUTELY NOT. NEVER. NO. No. NO."

Hernan tried to steady his wife's shoulders but she jerked back. She picked up a pillow from the sofa and smacked him hard with it. He just stood there, motionless as she stormed off to the dining room to pour a drink. She downed it fast and marched back to him, shouting "I AM NOT LETTING THAT BITCH-ASS NO-NECK..."

"Stop shouting." Hernan spoke softly but direct, trying to temper her tone just a little. Mariah sighed, threw her hands up, exasperated. She glared at him. He found himself staring coldly back. Mariah took a step back, put her hands on her hips. She pivoted to go off in a huff again.

Hernan rubbed his temples. She wasn't going to calm. She was going to leave. Drink at the Paradise. Something like that. Instead she spun around and exclaimed. "What the hell would you go and say that for? It ain't happening!"

Hernan stood his ground. "You know he's my brother."

"Psh, he's more than your brother! I'm not letting your jealous boyfriend be the godfather!"

"I told you I'm committed to you" Hernan said softly.

Mariah only glared on. She walked back to the dining room for another drink.

"Don't start again" Hernan groaned.

"Then tell 'Che' he can't be the godfather."

"Who do you want the godfather to be instead?"

The question took Mariah aback just a little. "I don't know, Tilda could be godmother?" Hernan shook his head, inhaled furiously.

Mariah scoffed. "Why the hell not? She's my blood. If I want a baby it should be my family raising it, not some outsider. Why the hell am I letting your cousin..." "

We're married and I'm not your family?!" Hernan shouted, voice trembling.

Mariah rolled her eyes, dismissively waving her hand. "Hernan the baby will be your relation, why not let me have some say in the godparentage?!"

"But family can be anything!" Hernan threw his hands up, looking deep into his wife's eyes as if trying to reach whatever part of her that was currently inaccessible. He thought she had been getting better. 

"That's what you think" Mariah grumbled, dejected. She staggered past him, trudged up the stairs to bed. Hernan let her pass. He rested his face in his left hand, feeling a powerful headache starting. He heard the bedroom door slam with a harsh thud. 

He sat on the couch, leaned forward, buried his face in his hands, trying to avoid turning to the damn vodka in the dining room. 

* * *

A few hours later, Hernan woke up. He must have fallen asleep on the couch, he thought groggily to himself. His custom suit was wrinkled from the spontaneous nap. He tried to straighten it out. He had his arms out to steady himself, then he started up the stairs to try again with Mariah. 

He opened the bedroom door gingerly and saw her lying on top of the covers, her head on a few pillows, arms folded over her stomach. 

She jolted awake. "The hell you want..." 

"I want Comanche to be the godfather." 

Mariah gave him a dirty look and rolled over onto her side, back turned to him. Hernan rolled his eyes. He went over to the lightswitch and flipped it on. Mariah groaned, turned back to face him, rubbed her eyes. 

"I'm cool with Alex being part of the system, ain't I?" 

"I'm too tired for your insecurity." 

"I'm the one who's insecure? You won't let me have Comanche be the godfather!" 

"How would you feel if I made Alex the godfather?! You'd be pissed, is what you'd be." 

"I'd accept it because I respect you and your decisions, your preferences. We're partners, and that's what partners do." 

Mariah haughtily laughed at that. Hernan strode forward and sat down on the bed next to her. She tried to turn her back again but he gently but firmly held her in place with one hand. 

"Let me go, Hernan, God damnit...."

Hernan tried again to see in her eyes something he could hold onto. He reluctantly let go. She turned her back. 

Mariah sniffled a few times, from what he could hear. He touched her shoulder, rubbed it gently. She didn't try to move it. 

"Baby, we can compromise." 

She sniffled a few more times. Turned her head a little to see him. He was still rubbing on her shoulder with his hand, stroking her neck. 

Mariah sighed, said "fuck it. I'll think about it." 

Hernan smiled a little. "Comanche would never take your place, ever." 

"But could I take his?" Mariah grumbled.

Hernan, fed up, got up and snapped "Really? You really say that?!" His face was flushed and he damn near felt like screaming. He bit his tongue, wincing at the pain. 

Mariah turned, adjusted her position, now sitting upright on the bed. "Hernan, Hernan, you know I want this." 

"So do I." 

"I'm sorry" she said flatly. Maybe she meant it. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to how this all got started.  
> I introduce Victoria and Reina Alvarez in my engagement/marriage fic.

Victoria was pregnant, as she found out at two months along. When she learned, she cried. She was 22, but wanted to wait before having kids. _There’s no way in hell I can do this..._ Such was the recurring thought running through Victoria's head. She wanted to get her medical degree and work experience. She couldn’t give a child anything at this point and she knew it. 

The father of the child was her boyfriend of one year. He wanted his degree also, after all, he was also finishing up pre-med. She called him up as soon as she found out. She asked him what he wanted to do, said she couldn’t do this at all. He agreed, asked her what she wanted. After a back-and-forth for a while, they decided to give the baby up for adoption. They weren’t ready to be parents, but another couple might be. Besides, Reina would be more approving of this decision. 

Reina protested. She wasn’t happy that the baby’s father was black, but she also wasn’t happy that neither he nor Victoria wanted to have a baby. “He ran away on you,” Reina scornfully told Victoria.

Victoria turned red, felt her temper rise. “We’re still a couple, he literally just came over yesterday to have dinner with us. we just don’t want to raise a damn kid! He hasn’t gone anywhere, mami!” 

Reina scoffed. “You made your bed and you need to lie in it. Own your shit and let me hold my grandchild. Don’t be selfish.” 

“What’s selfish is telling me to keep a child around when I don’t want to be a mama!” 

“ _Familia es primero, nena. Siempre,_ ” Reina stated authoritatively. 

“I am giving it up for adoption. This is about my life, what i want to do. I thought you’d prefer it to abortion. You wanna kick me out, you can. I can find another place to stay.” 

Reina shook her head. “Nena, I want you to stay here as long as you need. I don’t want to kick you out. I want you to be a doctor as much as you do. But I need to ask you one thing.” 

“What’s that?” Victoria asked, worried. 

“Who do you think will raise this kid?” 

“Maybe cousin Hernan and his wife could...”

“ _Tramposa,_ disgraceful woman," Reina muttered, more to herself. She thought for a moment and then added, "But she’s gotta be too old to give birth and they’re loaded. Maybe, nena, maybe.” 

The next week, Victoria knocked on the new brownstone door. Mariah answered it. She was half asleep, still in her nightgown, robe, and slippers. “Victoria, sweetie, what are you doing here?”

Victoria stammered, “Miss uh...Stokes-Dillard...Stokes...Alvarez...which do you prefer...”

“Just call me Mariah. We’re family now.” Truthfully, Mariah wasn't quite sure she preferred. She was Alvarez in personal forms, Stokes-Dillard elsewhere. She wanted to embrace the bad with the good, but Stokes was still a bit grating. 

“Mariah. I need to talk to you about something.”

Victoria looked concerned, and Mariah observed the young woman. Mariah coaxed, “Victoria, come in and talk to me. Want anything?”

Victoria shook her head no. As she stood in the vestibule she said, “I’m pregnant. I found out like a week ago. I don’t know what to do.”

Mariah suddenly felt herself grow cold, goosebumps appeared on her arms. She, too, had found herself pregnant and afraid, though at a much younger age. Mariah looked into her eyes and took a breath, put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. She said, “Whatever choice you make, I support it...”

“I don’t want to raise this baby, Mariah. I can’t. I’m not ready to be a mother.”

Mariah immediately went to get herself a drink from the liquor cabinet. She did not need to hear about someone else not ready to be a mother. 

“What do you want to do about it?” Mariah asked nervously, though also a little defensive.

“I want to...I want to give it up for adoption. I’m scared to have it. I’m not able or ready to care for a child,” Victoria said, her voice shaky.

“How does Reina feel?”

“She hates my black boyfriend, the father. But he doesn’t want this kid either, we both just want to go to college and have careers and stuff. We both want to be doctors. I don’t want to start raising a kid until I’m in my thirties.”

Mariah drank her liquor in one large swallow.

Victoria pressed on, “You talk a big game about Family First and no one having to do it alone. I don’t want to be a mom. I’m not ready for that. Someone else might be. You’re revamping this initiative, right? You gotta help me. Maybe...”

The gears in Mariah’s brain were already turning fast as she began to think of something. A blessing. A new start. Raising...She shut her eyes tight for a moment, shook her head to rid herself of the thought. “I ain’t gotta do shit, V,” Mariah snapped. 

Victoria, startled, stepped back, turned to leave. She turned back around, said, raising her voice, “Look, I came here because I want this baby to have a good life. And you and cousin Hernan could do that.”

Mariah shook her head vigorously, saying, “No, I’m sorry, no, V.” 

Victoria turned back around, quickly leaving the brownstone. 

Mariah staggered to the couch. She didn’t want to be a meemaw, she didn’t want to be Mamie Johnson, a motherly figure who wasn’t an actual mother.

She remembered how Tilda told her that Mamie made her keep Mariah’s picture. Mariah began to cry. _This baby wouldn’t be my real daughter, this baby would want to know who their real mommy was, and If I have a kid I want a kid who won’t betray me like the other one did, or bring me shame, or..._

_I don’t want her keeping a picture of real mom._

Mariah let the tears roll down her face as she lay back in her seat. She stumbled to her feet and searched for her scrapbook. Turned to the pages in the thick green book on which Tilda’s pictures appeared. There weren’t many, just a few. It hurt to include them at the time, she recalled.

_Cornell didn’t know his mama. I was his mama. But he was blood. Cornell betrayed me too._

_Everyone betrayed me. Hernan will slip up soon. This baby won’t be different._

The lights were off and the house was dark. It was still early morning. 

She just turned to the Stokes family portraits within her book. Mama Mabel featured prominently, as she did always. She was everyone’s mama. Whether they liked it or not.

_Stokes don’t need more blood passed down. But blood is everything. That’s what’s thickest. And I want Tilda to have children of her own too._

_Legacies don’t adopt, do they? But they adapt. If they can adapt, change, why can’t they include new blood?_

Mariah wiped the tears from her eyes as she thought on this some more. _And Tom Hagen was still in the Corleone family. But he wasn’t even Corleone in name, just Hagen._

The house was too quiet for Mariah’s liking.

She should be busy now. She should be working more on her initiatives. Her housing complexes. Her club. Hernan just worked on the extra business.

Both could manage affairs from home. Just like Mabel and Pete had. But she just had to have a clean schedule today. Married one year. _What does he want with me._

_I can’t do this. Hernan doesn’t need to know we ever talked._

She reached for the scrapbook again. She turned to the pictures of young Cornell, young Tilda. She could have a new start, a new chance. She was an Alvarez as well as a Stokes. She could adapt, and, hell, she could adopt. _Kid better not abandon me, better think of me as the real mommy. I want it to love me._

After a few more vodkas and pacings around the living room and dining room, Mariah pulled out her phone. She dialed Victoria’s number. Got voicemail. She started leaving a message of “V, It’s me. Call me back so we can talk.” But then the phone began to vibrate. Victoria was calling back.

“What is it?” Victoria said, her voice a little hopeful. 

“Hernan and I would love to have this child. I appreciate your reaching out. I do want this, alright?” 

Victoria hurriedly said “thank you so much, I love you both, thank you.”

“Thank you, V,” Mariah replied calmly, hanging up. She was still worried about saying love with the others in Hernan’s family. 

Hernan was still out taking care of some stuff with the club and the gun business. Mariah was supposed to be planning some more fundraisers. She was still, however, in her nightgown, robe, and slippers. She was only now starting to feel the effects of the liquor. She went about the day as she planned to, showering, dressing, going over her philanthropy endeavors, giving instructions to Alex.

But that night, as Mariah and Hernan lay in bed, Mariah said, practically out of nowhere, “let’s have a baby.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for reference to childbirth, PTSD, abuse 
> 
> This is much heavier than I planned for originally. But I tried looking up some stuff about in-family adoption and there's dilemmas that are warned about, like the biological parent's role in the child's life. So I kind of take a little shortcut around that.

At eight months pregnant, Victoria felt tired and sore all the time. She was beginning to think it wasn’t smart to have decided to stay pregnant. She just wanted to go about studying like a normal student, though it was only June. She and Mariah and Hernan and Ben Donovan went over the paperwork and necessary requirements, all of which were met, in large part thanks to Mariah and Hernan's wealth of connections. Hernan had a gargantuan criminal record, after all. 

Victoria tried to get Mariah to meet with her, join her in childbirth preparation classes, discussions on and for new parents. Mariah flatly refused, insisting she was too busy. The reality was much more complicated. 

* * *

Most of Mariah's dreams during these six months since learning of the pregnancy and deciding to adopt were grim and bleak flashbacks to 1983 and 1984, when she herself was pregnant, could only confide in Tommy about uncle Pete, was in labor for 22 hours, nearly died, and worst of all, when Mabel took Tilda. 

_"I wanna...I wanna hold her! Mama Mabel, let me hold her! Please let me hold her! Come back! Come back! Come back!"_

_"Shhhhhh..." was all a voice responded with._

_Mariah couldn't move. Her body was too weak, she was too drained. But she kept crying painful tears, sobbing as Mama Mabel grabbed the child from Mariah just moments after the umbilical cord was cut._

* * *

"Mariah, Mariah, wake up!" Mariah sprang awake to find Hernan looming over her, next to her in their bed. Mariah was drenched in sweat, and she shivered fiercely.

"What happened?" Mariah mumbled.

"You kept saying shit in your sleep, saying "come back!" louder and louder..."

Mariah gave him a cold look, pulled their covers closer to her and tried to fall asleep again, while Hernan remained upright, unconvinced.

"Mariah. A year ago you talked to me about the shit that happened to you. What's going through your mind?"

"Leave me alone, Hernan!" Mariah exclaimed, frustrated, "I just need to sleep, that's all."

Hernan looked at his wife with skepticism as she lay her head back down onto her pillow.

Hernan made eggs and toast for the two of them in the morning. He brewed a fresh pot of coffee, squeezed some oranges for juice. Mariah looked over the table he set for them, guilty.

"What's this Martha Stewart shit, Hernan?" Mariah teased.

"You know I like to cook, and I wanted to get you some coffee," Hernan responded from the kitchen. Mariah smirked at that.

She sat down at her place at the table as Hernan re-entered, sitting across from her. They ate, drank, said little to one another. Mariah got up to turn her juice into a screwdriver.

"What was up last night?" Hernan asked his wife.

Mariah gave him such a dirty look at that.

"Listen, I need you to communicate with me. It only strengthens what we have." 

Mariah groaned. She got some more vodka in the orange juice glass. She drank it down. "I had a dream about Tilda...and Mabel."

Hernan remembered the revelations from the previous year, and didn't say a word.

"I wanted to hold her, you know. I wanted to hold Tilda. She...she almost killed me and I just wanted to hold her because she was so beautiful and she was my daughter even though she was..." Mariah felt herself break out into a sweat again.

Hernan sat down in a chair next to her at the table, held her hand, but she drew hers away.

"Mama Mabel snatched her away from me. I didn't have enough time to look at her but I wanted to look at her and hold her. I knew I wouldn't raise her but I just wanted to hold her, I just wanted to hold her...” Mariah began to cry silently. 

Hernan just sat across from his wife, staring at her with concern and pain. He was at a loss for words. He stumbled out, “Hey, hey, we’re gonna have a baby and no one can take that from us.”

Mariah drew back, angry. “Hernan, your cousin will want the baby back, like I did. She will take her back from me. Like I got Tilda back from Mamie for a while, as long as I could handle...” Mariah’s voice raised as she spoke, feeling her temperature rise. 

“We don’t know...” Hernan sighed. Mariah glared. 

“In-family adoptions end up with problems. Will we bring this baby to your family gatherings? What will she call herself to this baby?” 

“Look, Victoria only just stopped by seven months ago, we ain’t even seen her since we got engaged. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Mariah kept her skeptical glare going. She rose, simply adding, “I’ll do the dishes.” 

Hernan sighed as he remained in his seat, trying to think of his next move. 

Hernan went over to see Victoria later in the day, after he finished up his business. They met near Victoria’s dorm at NYU, Where she was attending school. 

Victoria looked at her cousin, curious. “She thinks I’m gonna take it back? Is she out of her mind?”

Hernan, definitely not wanting to say anything about Mariah’s past, said simply, “She’s just been doing some research.”

“What?”

“Like, how are we gonna see you again for family events? Adoptions within the family get complicated by the close proximity of the biological parent.” 

“You barely see me as is,” Victoria said, irritated. “Does she want me to move all the way out of the states? Would it ease Mariah if I were in bumfuck nowhere Idaho?” 

Hernan snickered a little at that. Straightening up, he said, “Mariah just wants to make sure she gets to be a real parent.”

Victoria looked at him like he was stupid. “Hernan, she’ll be the real parent. Blood doesn’t always mean a guaranteed family. Your wife and my mami are a lot alike, you know. Always on some bullshit about blood relation.” Victoria sighed, folded her hands over her large belly. 

Victoria asked, “You wanna feel your daughter kicking the shit out of me?” Hernan thought for a moment, nodded, and reached out and felt his cousin’s stomach, the kicks inside it. Hernan smiled. That’s my daughter. Mine and Mariah’s. 

“I need to see Mariah, Hernan. This ain’t healthy, for her to worry and not even notice what’s going on with the pregnancy. She ain’t seen ultrasounds or anything.” Victoria looked at Hernan, her eyes demanding an answer. 

Hernan felt unable to speak. He wanted to say no, but in truth, they needed to sort this all out before the baby arrived. 

"Hernan, I want you and Mariah to know something else."

"What?" Hernan asked, curious. 

"I want to move back to Puerto Rico. I wanna be a doctor there, helping people over there. So Mariah's been worrying herself stupid over some other shit." 

Hernan looked at her in wonder. "Really? Ponce?" 

"Yeah. Mami's not thrilled but I can do more good there than here. I was wanting to go back all along, truthfully. That was another reason I didn't want a kid."

* * *

Mariah was breaking her promise and drinking some more vodka by her lonesome. As she requested, Tilda came by. Tilda entered the brownstone as Mariah held the door open, making way for her first daughter to come in. 

“Mother, what’s all this about and why are you drinking?” 

“I ain’t the pregnant one, T.” 

Tilda sighed and said, “Mothe...Mommy, what’s this about?” 

Mariah looked down at her feet, comfortable in her low inch heels, and went to take a seat. She motioned for Tilda to sit with her, but Tilda refused to do so. Mariah huffed and continued anyway. 

“Tilda, I need to ask you some things.”

“Then ask them,” Tilda sighed, folding her arms, staring at one of the new elephant statuettes, one that came from India. 

“You don’t think of the Johnsons as your real parents, ‘cause they showed you my picture, made you keep it,” Mariah began. Tilda looked at her, a little hurt and very confused. 

Mariah continued, “I wanted you back again. I asked for you back. I got you back.” 

Tilda felt tears come to her eyes. Then she shook her head and looked coldly down at her mother, responding, “Oh, now I get it. You think Victoria will want her baby back. You’re insecure and you want my input to help assuage things.”

Mariah glared, defiantly saying, “Look, I need you to tell me if I can be the real mommy, I don’t want to be a meemaw.”

Tilda groaned, rolled her eyes. She took a long breath and finally said, “Mamie Johnson was a good, kind, wonderful woman. She wasn’t insecure or afraid of my biological parent. Don’t worry, mother, you’re not her and you never will be.” With that, Tilda turned and swiftly left the brownstone. 

Mariah gave the finger to the closed door, scowling at nothing. She slumped back in her seat, then, feeling a massive headache coming on, staggered to the kitchen for some ice. 

* * *

Later that night, Hernan saw Mariah wasn't downstairs when he came back home. He checked for her upstairs. She was in their bed, napping. He watched her from the doorway, then, not turning off the light, sat next to her, stroking her hair. Mariah stirred. 

"Hey, baby. I got news that will make you more calm," Hernan gently said. 

Mariah, her face stained with tears, said, "What the hell would that be?" 

"Victoria wants to move back to Puerto Rico once she gets her medical degree. She wants to be a doctor back in Ponce."

Mariah felt a weight lifted from her chest, but she didn't want to admit that. Instead, she scoffed, responding, "Hernan, I'm not a good mother. I never was and I never will be. This is pointless."

Hernan glared down at her. "Look, you will be a great mother. I don't wanna do this with anyone but you. I trust you. But you need to cut this shit out, drinking, ranting, feeling sorry for yourself." 

"Excuse me?!" Mariah exclaimed, bolting upright. 

"This was your idea in the first place! We need to talk to Victoria, we need to get prepared for this baby. More than just the paperwork we've been doing with Ben Donovan. I need you. We can do this. We will do this. I know you want this kid." 

Mariah recoiled, not wanting to grant him anything. She stiffly nodded and said, almost in a whisper, "OK." 

Mariah sniffled, straightened, and said, "Hernan, I'm gonna prove Tilda wrong. I will be a great mommy. I will be called mommy, not mother, and I won't be a disappointment. I won't give her up for anything." 

Hernan stroked her face, saying, "That's my girl." 

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself, you know." 

"I just meant stop drinking so much, like you promised. We gotta work together because we got a month. You are better, so much better, than Mama Mabel. And I am with you every step of the way, you know that." 

Mariah nodded, patted his arm, lay her head back on her pillow. "I just wanna rest first, Hernan."

He nodded and quietly left the room. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet chapter, in which Mariah gets more on board with this whole idea of hers, much as she didn't want to start getting attached to Victoria and the child that she and Hernan will soon have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually just started listening to Sly & The Family Stone, and I just realized that I was listening to an album called Crooklyn, which is also the name of a movie Alfre Woodard starred in (Which the song 'everyday people' is featured in). So because I'm a sucker for allusions, I decided to keep that.

"She's got some strong feet, she's kicking my damn hand from all the way in there!" Mariah exclaimed as she sat in her brownstone with Victoria, who had begun coming over regularly to meet with and plan with Mariah, to understand the baby she'd be raising. Victoria laughed at Mariah's remark.

Mariah was now looking at the ultrasound photos that Victoria was bringing her, examining these pictures that contained, in black and white abstract portraits, what would soon be the baby Mariah and Hernan would have.

Mariah met Victoria's boyfriend a few times as well. He was perfectly nice, completely on board with the plan. She and him and Mariah and Hernan all had dinner together twice and both times the outing went smoothly.

True to Mariah's promise, she was trying harder to reduce her drinking. She was limiting her vodka intake, which made her slightly crabbier than usual.

They were listening to some of Mariah's old funk records that July afternoon. Mariah and Victoria were enjoying drinks, one vodka followed by some water, and a shirley temple, respectively, as they had a heart-to-heart for the first and final time. Sly & The Family Stone's album 'Crooklyn' was playing in that moment. 

"Mariah, she's gonna be like you, you know," Victoria laughed.

Mariah raised an eyebrow. "How so, darling?" She asked.

"She's tough as nails. Resilient. Like you and my cousin have been."

Mariah smiled graciously, gently squeezing the girl's hand.

"Hey Mariah?" Victoria asked suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"What about Tilda, your first kid?" Victoria clarified. "Does she know?"

Mariah sighed, "Yes, she does. She doesn't trust me and I don't exactly trust her. We aren't on the best terms, it's been a difficult relationship for both of us."

"Sorry I brought her up," Victoria said.

"Don't be. It's a reasonable question," Mariah responded icily.

"I was wondering about stopping by Mother's Touch for some of that herbal stuff for pregnant women..." Victoria started.

Mariah blinked, staring off into space, trying to bite her tongue. She took a deep breath and said, "Look, that's not a good idea."

Victoria turned back to her drink, saying, "I love the quality of these records, the sound is amazing."

Mariah perked up a little at that, responding, "I've known the business my whole life, my whole family lived and breathed music. I couldn't carry a tune or play an instrument for shit. But I always appreciated sound, especially a voice like Sly got." Mariah smiled at memories of concerts past. 

"I never really appreciated music much, just what was on the radio, you know?" Victoria shook her head at her own statement. 

"It's never too late to start," Mariah smiled, putting an arm around Victoria's shoulder, tussling her hair. Victoria smiled in turn. 'Everyday People' was now playing. 

Hernan walked in, looking on at his wife and cousin in a nice embrace, and he smiled wide. "Hey, baby and hey, V," he called to them. 

Mariah looked up and smiled at her husband, and Victoria called back, "Hey, cuz! Your wife is introducing me to soul." 

Hernan laughed, saying, "Yeah, she's good at that." Mariah nearly gagged at the corniness of that. 

"Baby girl is trying out for goddamn WWE before she's even come out of the womb," Mariah remarked. Hernan and Victoria cracked up at that. 

Hernan joined them in the living room, took a seat in one of the armchairs, made some smalltalk with the two women, before Victoria had to head back home. 

He moved from the chair to the spot next to his wife on the sofa.

"How were things at the office?" Mariah quipped. 

"Solid, I made some deals, some new moves, you know," Hernan answered nonchalantly. 

"I trust you with this shit, man," Mariah said, patting his cheek. 

"How are things with the complexes?" Hernan asked. 

"Smooth, real smooth," Mariah said. She ran her thumb along his chin, her other hand creeping along his belt. "I've been cutting back on the drinks, Hernan..." Mariah began. 

Hernan smiled, hummed in approval, took the hand that was playing with his chin and kissed it slowly. Now it was Mariah's turn to hum.

"I feel like some Chinese food tonight," Mariah said, "But some of that bougie kind, not the hood shit." 

Hernan snorted. "Yeah, sure," he replied, pulling out his phone to call up a restaurant to make some last minute reservations. 

"Adoption was a good choice if only 'cause I can eat what I want and drink what I want and do what I want...I bet you like that too, Hernan," Mariah purred, pressing up against him. Hernan was trying his damndest not to get too distracted as he called up the restaurant, but he couldn't help but feel all warm inside. They were a comfortable couple, all in all, and they were gonna have a kid and make her comfortable too. 


	9. Chapter 9

"V?"

"Yeah?" Victoria answered Mariah, on their way to the hospital. They had some music playing on the car radio, currently on was 'Family Affair' by Sly & The Family Stone. Victoria was lately really enjoying their music, ever since Mariah shared her private collection. Victoria had a neck pillow and a blanket to sit on. 

"Thanks for choosing us," Mariah said, patting Victoria's shoulder affectionately. She sat with Victoria in the second row, trying to distract her from her labor pains, as Hernan drove them all to Lenox Hill Hospital as efficiently as he could. They looked up tips for the hospital drive and found it best to be slower and avoid road bumps. 

Reina refused to go to the hospital with them. Victoria believed it would not help anyone, and Reina agreed. "I don't want to see a baby that won't even be my granddaughter," as Reina so kindly put it. 

It was August, the birthday month of Mama Mabel. Mariah was worried about what this might mean for the girl's birth. She focused all her energy, or most of it, on trying to help keep Victoria cool. 

Mariah massaged her temples, momentarily letting go of Victoria's hand. She kept thinking of how Mama Mabel yelled at her to remain calm and "just breathe" while she was in labor herself all those years ago. Mariah grabbed Victoria's hand again when Victoria held it out for her, looking at her as if to say, _hold my damn hand._

"You both OK back there?" Hernan asked from behind the wheel. 

"All good, cuz! Just drive faster! Vamos!" Victoria cried. 

"You know," Mariah said, "When I first met Hernan back in 2015, I never could have imagined we'd be in a car driving his pregnant-ass cousin to a hospital to give us her baby." 

"Your baby, Mariah!" Victoria corrected, impatient. 

_boomshakalakalaka boomshakalakalaka_ thumped throughout the benz as Sly continued to sing through the radio. "This music helping at all?" Hernan asked, more for himself than for his wife or cousin. 

"I like it on, Hernan! Boomshaka-laka-laka..." 

"You can use that as a phrase to keep yourself steady, just repeat it, darling," Mariah advised. 

"Ahhh...boom-shaka-laka-laka...boom...shaka...laka...laka..." Victoria tried, before exclaiming suddenly, "OW, _dios mio_ that hurts!" 

Mariah squeezed her hand tighter, then began to massage Victoria's temples. The childbirth classes she and Hernan and Victoria attended together were coming in handy. 

"Y'all got enough water back there?" Hernan asked. 

"We good, Hernan!" Mariah cried out, still feeling Victoria's face. "Now just focus on counting or something, OK?, V?" 

Victoria nodded, trying to steady her breathing as Hernan finally pulled up to the front of hospital. Victoria began to cry and breathe more rapidly. 

Hernan quickly got out of the car and opened the door for his cousin and his wife, helping his wife help Victoria out of the car, as 'Que Sera, Sera' continued to resound throughout the car. 

Mariah helped Victoria walk over to the entrance, as Hernan flagged down some professionals who were expecting them. They helped Victoria make her way into the delivery room as Mariah and Hernan nervously followed them. 

Mariah told Hernan to "Go get the damn hospital bag already!" and Hernan obliged, annoyed at that tone of voice as he was. 

* * *

Mariah found herself breaking out into a sweat as she and Hernan sat in the waiting room. Mariah did not believe she could realistically bear to be in the delivery room with Victoria, and Hernan understood. So they brought her her things and hospital bag and uneasily left. 

"I need to be in there, it ain't really my baby unless I am in that room..." Mariah began to stand up and pace around. 

Hernan also got up out of his seat and placed both his hands on her shoulders, trying to steady her. "Hey, that is your baby. That is our baby. Besides, I don't want you having another panic attack. That shit ain't gonna do anything for anyone, least of all, you." 

Mariah's nightmares were getting worse in the weeks prior to this day. She woke up and felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest. Memories of 1984, of Mabel screaming at her, of Tommy begging to be there to assist her. Even Uncle Pete would feature in these dreams, saying horrible things. The Mabel and Pete of her nightmares were much more distorted, but they were every bit as monstrous as they had been in life. 

Mariah began to have panic attacks and night terrors to the point where Hernan had to remain vigilant of his wife while she slept. Some nights he even chose to ignore the fact that she rushed to the vodka. 

Mariah now, looking into the worried but calming eyes of her husband, said softly, "Hernan, I want to be a mama. A real one. I don't want anything to go bad. I don't want her to think I'm not real." 

Hernan kneaded his fingers into her shoulders, gently saying, "You're the realest, mama." 

Mariah had to snort at that. She tightly hugged him, and he held her, his arms around her like hers were around him. 

After a few more hours, a doctor came out. "Mr. and Mrs. Alvarez?" he called out.

Mariah and Hernan turned to face him. They leapt to their feet and awaited his news.

"Congratulations," said the doctor to the couple, "Everything went well. Ms. Alvarez has given birth to a healthy baby girl." 

Mariah began to cry with both joy and worry. Hernan put an arm around his wife and held her close. 

* * *

Mariah was worried about snatching the girl away from Victoria, as Mabel had snatched Tilda away from her. This, despite reassurances from Victoria that this was their baby. Victoria held the baby, looked into the little girl's eyes and beamed down at her. When Mariah was ready, which was in a few hours, she held the baby girl close and cooed to her, whispered to the crying infant. The girl looked up at Mariah. Mariah smiled at her, and the girl quieted down. She settled nicely into Mariah's arms.

Hernan took his turn, and the girl cried for a bit at the new person but she also calmed with him. 

Victoria pointed out it seemed like a great sign that the girl wasn't fussing with them. Mariah asked to hold the baby again, and Victoria agreed. Mariah held the baby close to her breast and gently embraced her, tears in her eyes, whispering, "You're my daughter, mija, my daughter." Hernan had to sneak a picture of this ever so carefully.

Hernan and Mariah thanked Victoria, who they worried was sad about this. Victoria assured them no, she wasn't, that this was what she absolutely wanted and this was the plan all along. Everything worked out. 

Hernan and Mariah named the baby 'Honor Mariah Enriqua Alvarez'. Honor, because she was an honor, and she brought them nothing but honor. Mariah wanted something close to Hernan's name, and Hernan wanted her name in it too. So they decided on the middle name for her to be Mariah. The second middle name, Enriqua, was added because Mariah didn’t want it to sound like this was just her honor, as the first two names implied. That was too much of a burden for a child to have to carry. She wasn’t always self aware but this was just a given. And it was based off Hernan’s own middle name, ‘Enrique’. Mariah had no middle name to speak of, and she didn’t want to add “Maybelline”, as was added for Tilda. 

The baby was the same color skin as Mariah herself. Hernan pointed out that Honor and Mariah had the same face, same eyes. Mariah scoffed, but felt flattered at the same time. She liked to think so too. She saw Hernan's cheeky smile and honestly she saw Hernan's eyes more than her own in the baby, but Hernan kept saying, no, she's you. She didn't want to seriously argue about it, especially because there was no biological relation to her, like there at least was somewhat with Hernan.

Mariah loved that this baby was already very much a part of the both of them. And this baby felt like her own, as if she'd given birth to her herself. She was worried about the lack of attachment she might have felt, worried sick about it for six straight months. Strangely, it was not there. 

Mariah agreed to couples' therapy with Hernan, at his insisting. They needed to sort stuff out, though Mariah was always distrustful of shrinks. However, she wanted to be as present as possible for Honor. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A six month time jump, featuring Tilda, babysitting Honor. Barely scratches the surface. I wrote this months ago but I kept thinking it would fit in with the rest of this story.

Tilda sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes as she tried to focus on the piano in front of her. It was a new one, not the one she’d always known cousin Cornell to play. Understandable, since her mother murdered him. She tried to play some familiar melodies, ones that usually helped her to clear her head. Billie Holiday tunes. She sang along, though trying to keep her voice soft, almost to the point of whispering. Why was she here? _Especially mother killed cousin Cornell. Married that obnoxious younger man, the gangster who wore those stupid sunglasses. What am I doing here?_ Tilda began to press down on the keys more firmly as she thought more about it. 

She was looking after the baby girl in the crib upstairs. She had the baby monitor right by her. The baby was sleeping soundly so far. “Don’t give her any weird-ass holistic mumbo-jumbo” her mother directed Tilda before she and Hernan left for their date. Hernan didn’t say anything to her except “we’ll be back late”. She tried not to talk to him too much. He didn’t want to speak to her either. 

Tilda began singing louder. Lady Day just didn’t deserve to be sung in hushed tones. “Oooh what a little moonlight can do…” Tilda closed her eyes and felt herself get lost in the song, moving her head as she played on, until Honor began to cry. 

“Shit” Tilda muttered as she lost the song, the music trailing away as the baby wailed. Tilda sulkily got out of the chair and went to the kitchen table to pour herself another vodka. _Since when did I start drinking mother’s usual?_

Tilda swallowed it and grimaced. She paused for a moment before trudging upstairs, reminding herself of a spoiled child storming to her room. _That baby is the spoiled one. Mother actually wanted her._

Tilda reached the second floor and tried to steady herself with a few calming breaths. Honor, the baby girl, didn’t deserve these childish emotions. 

_Why Hernan? Why adopt a distant relative of his? Was mother for real, or was this just an act like so much she did?_

Honor kept crying, the sobs breaking Tilda out of her racing thoughts. Tilda sighed. “I’m coming, _little sister_.” 

Honor looked like any other adorable chubby-faced baby. She was lying on her back crying. There wasn’t much else she could do at six months. 

_This baby was wanted._ Tilda couldn’t shake that thought from her head as she picked up Honor and rocked her gently. _This baby wasn’t a trauma or a trigger, a living reminder of…_

 _She’s adopted anyway! She’s not even real blood! Why does she get love and not me?_ Tilda felt her eyes well up with tears, which she tried to ignore as she kept rocking Honor. She tried to snap out of it, staring at the ceiling and reminding herself that adoption was valid and counted for family, what was she, old fashioned? She herself was adopted by Mamie Johnson. But always reminded who her real mother was…

Tilda felt herself grow hot and her face start to sweat. She couldn’t stop tears from falling even as Honor kept on crying. Usually she was so good with infants. _And she’s family. This isn’t the eighties, she’s family. Real goddamn family and she’s my sister. She’s family but she doesn’t have the Stokes curse, that should be a good thing, she’s not Mariah, she’s not mother…_

Tilda turned her attention back to Honor. Began to come back down to Earth. Looked at her like she looked at so many infants in her care, gently murmuring “shhhhh, it’s ok, it’s ok, I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.” She held the baby closer, more gently, more in tune with her usual nurturing treatment of children. She began to sing. “Oh your daddy’s rich and your ma is good lookin’  
So hush little baby, don’t you cry…” 

Honor began to quiet down, the wailing stopped. Tilda stopped singing and Honor was about to start up again. Tilda smiled and said “don’t worry little sister I’m gonna give you some more music.” She opened her mouth again, feeling the music in her head, closing her eyes for a moment before starting “birds flyin’ high, you know how I feel, sun in the sky, you know how I feel…breeze driftin’ by, you know how I feel…” 

When Tilda opened her eyes again she gazed down at Honor, hugging her close and then putting her gently back into the crib as she drifted back to sleep. Tilda kept up the song as she watched over the baby girl. 


End file.
